The line is so quiet, I’m sure I heard him swallow. “Um, yeah. I mean, yes, Sir. I’d like that very much.”
“God, I wish you were here,” I murmur, then snap my mouth shut. How needy does that sound? I stay silent, hoping he didn’t hear me.
It carries on for a long while until he speaks. “I do too.”
“Is this all too soon?” I ask cautiously. “I know you and Rafe have a lot of history, and that you may not want to be in a serious relationship again so soon.” God, shut your fucking mouth, Finn, I berate myself. Drake says they finished years ago and have probably only had sex a few times since then. It was more wanting to get off than being with each other again. Rafe knows Drake is safe and never going to expose him.
“Finn, stop talking. Rafe and I are not an issue; we stopped being involved a long time ago. He knows about you and how I feel; I told him before I came back. In fact, he told me to tell you to paddle my arse for leaving or something like that.” He lets out a sigh. “I wish I was with you too.”
“Paddle your arse, eh? I can get on board with that.” I yawn, suddenly very tired. “I’m sorry. I think all the messing around the last few days has caught up with me.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We say goodnight and end the call. I put my glass in the sink and go to my bedroom. As soon as I settle in bed, my head fills with all the work I haven’t done in the last three days. I know that I’ll never get to sleep with the lists going in circles in my mind. With a shove, the duvet goes down my body, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up.
With my tablet and stylus in hand, I grab a can of Coke from the fridge and settle back in my bed. With a pillow behind my back, I can lean comfortably against the bars on my headboard. With a hiss and crackle, I open the can and place it in reach on the side table. After reading through the author’s criteria, I pull up the stock photograph site and look through the images that fit. I pick three and make up mock book covers, then I email them to the author to check and pick one or ask for alterations. This client is usually very happy with our covers, and it’s normal for her to choose one without any changes.
I work my way through the list until I start making errors and know it’s time to quit. I know I’ll be able to sleep now, and if I sleep in, I won’t worry.
The sound of heavy rain pounds on my windows as I surface from the cocoon I’ve made in the night. Ugh, I hide my face in the pillows and close my eyes again. It’s the trill ring of my phone that wakes me up next; there’s a god somewhere laughing at my bad luck. “I want to sleep.” I look at the time on my phone before answering Memphis. 8:05. What the fuck. I’ve only had 4 hours sleep.
“Whaddayouwan?” I ask, my thick tongue and dry throat hardly making the words.
“Well, good morning to you, my little bundle of sunshine,” he laughs. “Can you let me in, it’s pissing down.”
“Why are you here?” I ask when I open my door.
“We arranged it; we have to be at the letting agents at nine to sign the paperwork for the office.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that. It’s going to be a rush to make it in time. “You go and make me a coffee, and I’ll jump in the shower; we can be out of here in fifteen minutes tops.”
I let Memphis drive; he knows his way around here so much better than I do. We make it in time, even if my hair isstill damp, and I’m sure I still have creases on my face from the pillow.
“Why did it have to be this early,” I mutter to my friend as we walk into the agency.
“Why were you still in bed? You never sleep in.”
“I caught up on all my work. It was about four when I stopped.”
He looks at me sideways. “I thought you might have had a bed partner.”
“Where the hell would I pick up someone? And when? We’ve been working non-stop.” I shake my head, non-plussed at his absurdity.
“The cute guy two floors up from you? You know the one you won’t talk about.” He’s never going to let this stop.
“He’s away. Not that I would.”
Not for a few hours anyway.
“What do you think?” I look at Ethan over the pub table. He’s matured in the six or seven years it’s been since we were in the army together.
“Why me? I’m flattered, but it’s not like we’ve seen much of each other.” He picks up his beer and finishes the last inch.
“You have the qualities I’m looking for. Someone with a sensitivity towards a certain kind of man,” I say, knowing he’ll understand, even if he’s not open about sharing his sexuality. It wasn’t something we talked about when we knew each other, but we both understood.
“You mean because I’m queer?” He sits back in the booth, his back to the wall of the pub.
“Yes. There are a lot of people who need protection in their workplaces or lifestyle. I know this from experience.”
